The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1887-12-29

much Obliged to you for keeping me
from spending my hundred dollars. II
was very kind of you, very. l don't
know how you came to find me. How
long have you known about grandpa?"
ut only came out this morning, and
took us all entirely by surprise. But
here we are at your door. Goodbye,
my dear. If / can be of service to YOU
in any way Che had meant to offer her
money. but he was suddenly afraid to
speak of such q thing to the spirited
looking girl before him), remember the
long intimacy between our families
gives ME right to help you.'
''Thank you," she said. simply. It
was all she had voice for; and using
her latch-key, she let herself into the
house.
BLESS me"' said the young lawyer,
as he walked off; 'but the girl has
pluck! 1t was very pretty, and entirely
womanly, too, the way she thought of
others. her grandfather and the cred
itors. didn't think little Polly had it
in her."
If he had seen little Polly at this min
ute, he might not have thought she had
so much in her. She had slipped noise
lessly into the great handsome front
parlor, and dropped down on one of the
low, cushioned divans, 'all in heap"
as the girls say. For two whole hours
she kept herself hid in the parlor, no
body knowing she was in the house;
and, in that lone, silent time, when she
heard only the tinkling little bronze
clock and her own irregular breathing,
something happened to Polly. almost
like what happens to the moth when it
comes out of the cocoon. 1t happened
TO the Polly that was hid away inside
of the Polly that everybody knew. And
who shall say that this great startling
change of fortune was not sent to keep
that inside Polly from being smothered
and dwarfed by the outside Polly?
When she went to find her mother
and grandfather, it was with a bright
face and steady voice.
A few days after this Polly brought
up dainty little breakfast to her
mother. who was quite overcome by
their disaster, as was the poor old
grandfather.
"Come, mother" Polly said, blithely,
Il made these biscuit; and you've got
to eat two. What good thing it was
that you had that hobby about teach
ing me to do things! Doesn't it fit in
nicely now?"
at was a theory of your fathers, )"
answered the mother, in depressed
tone. Il promised him, when you were
a wee baby in long clothes, that l would
have you taught to do everything that
women can do, and, of course, after
his death, felt the more bound to do
it. But I don't know why you should
make so much of it now. You can't
support yourself making biscuits"
Il don't know" said Polly, care
lessly. 81 don't know" she repeated
more earnestly, springing up and walk
ing about the room, as if her mind were
not following her footsteps.
In few weeks the Rutherfords had
moved into small downtown house.
with all the available rooms ''let;" and
poor old Mr.. Rutherford was trying
feebly to discharge the duties of a
small-salaried Office into which his
friends had put him.
Polly's mother seemed quite crushed
at first; but the girl herself was buoy
ant with hope, as every young girl has
| a right to be, no matter what her style
of living is or is not.
Thanks to Mr.. McIlwaine, she had
her hundred dollars now to invest in
| an enterprise on which she had set her
heart far more than it had ever been
set on the pearls. And along with the
| hundred dollars she had also to invest
in it youth, health, good sense. a brave
spirit and proud independence. What
else needed she for a happy and sue
| cessful lifep
Her enterprise began with a visit,
basket in hand. to seven or eight of the
best city hotels, and as many of the
restaurants. To all of them she offered
daily. weekly or triweekly supply of
her dainty little beaten biscuit. such as
she had learned to make down in East
ern Virginia, from famous old cook,
who had in slave days belonged to her
fathers family. She was successful
almost up to her own expectations, and
far beyond her mothers; and her ella
ton could not but infuse some hope into
that lady's weak spirit.
"We must have new name for your
biscuit, Miss" said one wise old res
taurant keeper What shall we call
them?''
Call them," said Polly, hesitating
and laughing, ''call them the Polly
wolly-winkum biscuit.
The Polly-wolly-winkum biscuit got
to be the fashion that winter. After
hiring one good cook at what seemed
ruinous wages, second and third had
to be engaged; but Polly put on her
great kitchen apron. tied up her abund-
| ant bair info q biph knot and sneni